


Half Way To Heaven

by shakina



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Multi, Nephilim!Stiles, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakina/pseuds/shakina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently the child (they had stopped thinking up baby names the moment it was revealed they would not be allowed to keep him, not if they wished for him to live a full life) was a great conduit for good or evil. Which, Cas had explained, meant he had the potential to be very good, or very, very bad. He was a blank slate, not born evil or benevolent, like everyone else. He would be born with no moral compass, no guiding factor for his actions. A complete wild card. And worse yet, being half-angel also meant he would have the same powers, only, as a half-human, he would have free will and could determine his own fate.</p><p>***</p><p>When the angels threaten the life of their son, Castiel and Dean are forced to go back in the past and leave him there, in Beacon Hills, California. They go back to their own time heart broken, until six years later they catch word of a pack of wolves in the same place that they left their son to be safe. The hunters make their way back to the dusty town to discover that their son is the boy that runs with wolves. But is he really just a boy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: With a flash of light.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, the timeline is kind of fucked up on this. Basically, Stiles is born in 2008, but they leave him newborn in 1998. The story takes place in 2016, when Stiles is 18.

_Beacon Hills, 1998_

There's a flash of bright light on the corner of a nondescript street, and then it's gone, as quick as it'd come, and there are four men standing in its place. One of them is holding a little squirming bundle in his arms, his trench coat flapping in the wind and deep blue eyes glaring at nothing, because he's so _angry_. Not sad like his brother, Gabriel, who was crying openly, not used to human emotions, and not giving a fuck who knows his deep grief, because it hasn't been ingrained in him from a young age to be ashamed of crying.

Not like the two brothers than finish off the group. One of them, the tallest, is staring at the other in concern, because he knows this was his brothers' last hope for a real family, and here they are, 10 years in the past and planning on leaving leaving it there. Leaving that hope that had only started blooming eight months and three days ago, when Castiel had announced he was pregnant. Sam could still remember the smile that had grew on Dean's face when he had finally realized, no, the angel _wasn't_ hopped up on LSD, and, yes, he _was_ going to be a father.

The reason that Sam is staring at Dean is because the new father is blank faced. He's not crying, and he's not glaring because he's not feeling anything. Nothing but numbness and the deep sense of dread that had planet itself in the pit of his stomach the moment he realized that they were going to have to give away _his_ _child_. No way were they going to be able to keep it (him, Dean would soon learn), not with angels looking to kill the abomination (Gabriel had almost died again when he had dared to call the baby that in front of Dean) and demons wanting to recruit him to their ranks.

And that was another thing. Apparently the child (they had stopped thinking up baby names the moment it was revealed they would not be allowed to keep him, not if they wished for him to live a full life) was a great conduit for good or evil. Which, Cas had explained, meant he had the potential to be very good, or very, _very_ bad. He was a blank slate, not born evil or benevolent, like everyone else. He would be born with no moral compass, no guiding factor for his actions. A complete wild card. And worse yet, being half-angel also meant he would have the same powers, only, as a half-human, he would have free will and could determine his own fate.

And that's why they're here, in the middle of nowhere California, with a suspiciously quiet baby, which was born a mere four days ago. Gabriel had insisted they wait long enough for Castiel to recover from giving birth and both him and their (not theirs) baby to stabilize enough to time travel safely, but Cas still looks a little pale. Dean steps forward next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Cas' glare lessens slightly and he looks down. Dean follows his gaze down to the child in the angels arms. The baby is staring back up at them with curious honey brown eyes. He had been born with the same color eyes, and Dean hadn't even known that was possible. Maybe it was an angel thing? Even if they were completely different in color, the baby's eyes shone just as bright as Castiel's blue ones.

Dean finally manages to drag his eyes away from the baby and he looks around them.

“Why _here_ , again?” he asks.

“This is the safest place for him,” Gabriel explains gently.

Dean snorts. He wants to say that the safest place for _their_ _son_ is with _them_ , but he can't, because it's not.

“This is the most supernatural-free place in all of America.” Sam goes on. “I checked, and there hasn't been any supernatural or mysterious crimes here, from now until 2008, present time. He'll be fine, Dean.”

And Dean believes him. Because this child is Sam's blood too, and he knows that his brother would protect him with his life. All of them would. So Dean trusts that this is the best thing for their child, Cas and his, even if it makes him feel like he's dying. There's no way Sam would have let them leave the child somewhere that he didn't know to be safe.

Dean gives a decisive nod and starts walking in a random direction. The others shuffle after him, none of them in a rush.

“Should we-” Dean hesitates. “Should we leave him on someone's doorstep?”

Castiel clutches the baby even tighter to his chest in response to that. “ _No_.”

“Let's find a hospital or something,” Gabriel offers.

Cas nods, face still grim.

Instead of a hospital, they find the Beacon County Sheriff's Department. They wait near the front until they see a squad car pull up, before they each give the baby one last look. Gabriel and Sam walk a little way away to give the couple a moment.

“We'll come back for you,” Dean swears. “As soon as it's safe for you.” He wipes his tears away with the back of his hand before stroking a shaking finger down the baby's face and then turning around abruptly to leave.

Castiel gazes down at his child with tear-less blue eyes. He places a gentle kiss to the baby's forehead and closes his eyes. He feels like a piece of himself has been ripped out and put into the small creature in his arms, and here they are, leaving it here.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks.

Castiel doesn't open his eyes, nor does he lift his head.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Someone taps him on the shoulder and Cas whirls around to face him. He's in his mid-twenties and wearing a beige deputies uniform, concern painting his features. He looks like a good person. Kind and fair and loving. Good. That's good.

Castiel thrusts the baby into the strangers arms before he says to hell with it and take him back home with them. He knows that they have to do this, but that doesn't make him any less angry, doesn't dull the pain. “We had no choice.”

“What? Sir, what are you talk–“ he starts, but Castiel doesn't let him finish.

“Make sure that he is safe, and that he knows we never wanted to do this. That he was loved.”

And with that, Castiel turns and walks away, ignoring the calls of the deputy and the wailing of the baby. The anger fades to regret and tears start falling down Castiel's face once again. This was the first time he had heard the baby cry, and was probably going to be the last.

Castiel walks back to their group and grabs a hold of Gabriel, who sends them back to their own time with the same flash of light in which they came.


	2. Welcome To Beacon Hills.

“Dean?” Sam asks, knocking on his brothers open bedroom door.

 

They've been living in The Men of Letters bunker for over two years now, and Dean and Castiel's room is really well lived-in. There's photos on the walls, dirty laundry on the floor, and the shitty half-finished blanket that Gabriel had made for them the weekend that he had insisted he was going to be 'the best crocheter to ever walk the land' is on the end of the king-sized bed. Which Dean is lying on, styling Castiel's hair into devil horns (“ _Angel_ _horns_ ,” Dean will always insist), while the angel in question reads a book.

 

“What's up Sammy?” Dean asks with an easy smile. It had taken years to bring that smile back after The Incident, and Sam cherishes every single one that his brother offers up. He hates to be the one to make it disappear.

 

“It's Tymoteusz, he could be in trouble.”

 

“Oh,” Deans hands still, and the angel's head jerks up towards Sam.

 

“What.” There is no inflection in the previously-content angel's voice.

 

“Nothing definite,” Sam hastens to reassure. “Just some ritualistic killings that are similar to that of a darach.”

 

“Oh, don't worry then, if it's just some _ritualistic_ _killings_ in the same town that we left our son to be safe in. Things seem fine, when you put it like that.”

 

“Who's idea was it to teach Blue Eyes over there sarcasm?” Gabriel says leaning against the wall casually.

 

Dean and Sam glare at him and say in synchronization, “ _Yours_.”

 

He shrugs. “I was probably drunk. And you call yourselves hunters, letting a drunk angel make decisions for you.”

 

“Gabriel,” Sam sighs. “You can't _get_ drunk.”

 

The arch-angel levels a fierce glare at him. “Don't underestimate my ability to do stupid shit.”

 

“Excuse me? Are you two done with your weird fore-play? Can we get back to the whole my son could be in danger thing?”

 

“Sorry Dean. I didn't mean to panic you guys. The murders are years old.”

 

“Years? What do you mean, _years_?”

 

“Well, I stopped checking in after... Well, you know.” (They did. God, did they know.) “It seemed pointless, and it hurt too damn much.”

 

Castiel nodded, calming slightly and giving Sam a sad smile. “So, what happened with the darach?”

 

Sam shrugged. “The article didn't say, but the killings stopped, the ritual incomplete.”

 

“Maybe some other hunters got it. What's the big deal?”

 

“Well, once I found the article on the darach, I started looking back deeper. And it looks like there was some werewolves there some time ago, but it looks like they've cleared out now. However, after the influx of werewolf killings, there's been a whole host of different supernatural creatures attacking the town. Tymoteusz and his father are still alive and well, but it doesn't look like the attacks are stopping anytime soon. That's is a lot of supernatural activity concentrated in such a small area. It made me wonder if...”

 

“If, what, Sammy?” Dean growled.

 

“If maybe Tymoteusz is drawing them there. Like Cas did in Purgatory.”

 

There was a silence. Everyone turned to look at Gabriel.

 

“It... could be possible.” the arch-angel says slowly.

 

Another bout of silence.

 

“Well, shit,” Dean mutters, which pretty much summed the whole situation up.

 

 

[IGNORE ME, I AM BUT A HUMBLE SCENE BREAK! IGNORE ME, I AM BUT A HUM]

 

   
  
---  
  
  
  


Dean looks out the window of the Impala as they pass a sign. It says:

WELCOME TO

BEACON HILLS.

POPULATION:

And then the number beneath it is illegible after being crossed out and corrected so many times. Dean snorts to himself. It's like some kind of prop from a B-horror movie. The sign hadn't been like that the last time they were here. But Dean doesn't want to think about the last time they were here. Let's just say Dean hasn't but one good memory of this town. Hopefully that streak won't continue, considering they're planning on introducing themselves to their son, who they abandoned in the past to protect him. And then they're gonna have to tell him that it didn't work, and he's in trouble.

 

Sam is driving, because Dean had had to stop a couple miles back as exhaustion took hold, and he doesn't trust just anybody with his Baby. Despite how tired he is, Dean can't sleep, and he's not surprised. Gabriel is passed out on the seat next to him, head resting on Dean's shoulder and drool dripping down his chin. Every now and then he'll snort to himself, still asleep, and say something like “how do you expect me to get to the moon on _that_ bicycle? God, your life is a mess”, or “stop trying to steal my football jersey, I _earned_ it. I am _the_ prettiest cheerleader”, and Dean's favorite, “officer, arrest this baby, he has been doing drugs with my _soul_ ".

 

Castiel is leaning against the front passenger door, eyes closed, but Dean can tell that the angel is still awake. His fingers are drumming nervously on his knee, restless in a way that he usually isn't. There's nothing normal about this situation, and Dean knows it's selfish of him to expect his husband to act like it is. Hell, Dean isn't acting normal, letting Gabriel use him as a pillow, where usually he'd have pushed him off by now. Maybe even out of the car ( _“which happened_ one _time, Sammy, so shut up, it's not like he won't heal!”_ )

 

Before Dean knows it, Sam is pulling up into the drive-way of a small house. Dean tilts his head back to frown at it.

 

“What are we doing here?”

 

Sam smiles guiltily. “Uh, this is where we're staying.”

 

Dean's frown deepens. “ _Why_?”

 

“Because I, uh bought it. A couple years back, actually. I figured we'd have to come back here sometime, and it might be for a while, so...” he trailed off.

 

Dean didn't ask from where his brother got the money to just _buy_ a house. Living the life they do, you meet a lot of interesting people, who all have lots of interesting and creative ways to break the law. Instead, he just nods to his brother in silent understanding. Tymoteusz may be Castiel's and his son, but the loss affected Sam and Gabriel almost as much as it did them. Instead, he nods and climbs out of his car.

 

Gabriel startles awake with a startled “hng?” and is out of the car with an Angel-Blade in his hands before Dean can blink. Which he does. Slowly.

 

“Okay, so that happened.”

 

The arch-angel shrugs nonchalantly and scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck with the Angel-Blade. “Sorry. It's this town, it makes me feel jumpy.”

 

Dean snorts. It's not the town making him jumpy, it's what's in the town. Or, more accurately, _who_. The child that he and Cas had fathered all those years ago was a complete enigma to them. They knew his name ( Tymoteusz Stillinski), and his age (just turned eighteen a couple months back). They knew his father was the County Sheriff and his mother was a chemical engineer, before she died of frontal lobe dementia, twelve years ago. But other than that, they knew nothing. Not who his friends were, what colleges he had been accepted to, his hobbies. He was a mystery and that had been fine. Hell, who was Dean trying to kid, it wasn't fine, it hurt like hell, but it had kept their child safe, so they dealt with it.

 

Until now. Now, they were going to get to introduce themselves as his biological family, maybe even get to know him, if he would allow it. Though that was not the objective here. Their goal was to keep him safe, sort out whatever supernatural mess was going on in this town, and maybe even try to convince his dad to let them slap an anti-possession tattoo on the kid. Turns out, not even being nephilim could protect you from getting worn like a sock puppet by a demon, unfortunately.

 

Cas gets out of the car and steps forward to put a comforting hand on his brothers shoulder. The arch-angel unconsciously leans into it and sends a smile back in thanks.

 

“So, I guess we should unpack our stuff,” Gabriel says, waving his arms out grandly. “And by our stuff, I mean our weapons, because you guys are fucking paranoid and thought it appropriate to bring a whole armory.”

 

“Yeah, we're the paranoid ones,” Sam smirks, giving the angel-blade still in Gabriel's hand a significant look.

 

The arch-angel, like the, wise, millennium-old adult he is, just sticks his tongue out at the hunter.

 

Dean rolled his eyes at the two and went to the trunk to retrieve his duffle bag, which, admittedly, contained more weapons than clothes. The metal inside clanked together when he picked it up, and okay, maybe he went a little over-board with the ammunition, and they also probably didn't need the mini-flan thrower he had, but it payed well to be prepared. Something told him that Beacon Hills was not the safe place that they thought it to be when they left their son there.

 

Little did he know, Dean was about to find out just how unprepared he really was.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta, any and all mistakes are my own.


End file.
